being? yes, yes, Adelheida loves me, and I must fly, not to save myself, but her." From this period, from a principle of rectitude, Di Rinaldini determined to depart from Montranzo; alone, unattended, to steal from the bosom of security, to fly the seducing voice of love, and the soulsoothing offices of friendship. But whither could he go? alas! that was but a secondary consideration; the effort once made, the spell of attraction broken, the world was before him, and "he who feeds the sparrows," he who "he who numbereth the sands upon the sea-shore," would not withhold his mercy. Huberto therefore diligently avoided the society of Adelheida ; whole hours would he wander among the romantic wilds of the Appennines, or shut himself up in the solitude of his chamber: no longer for a moment did he trust himself alone with the innocent author of his sorrow; no longer did he join, in the sacred rites of her devotion, or, in the oratory, F 4 oratory, listen to the soft vibrations of her voice, accompanying the organ in hymns of praise. But if Huberto was sad, Adelheida was also cheerless; if Huberto felt not joy, Adelheida was also a stranger to bliss: too innocent, too candid, too ingenuous, to have acquired the art of veiling her sentiments, melancholy imperceptibly pervaded her spirits, and stole from her cheek the ruddy bloom of health. She drooped, she pined in secret; floods of bitter tears streamed from her eyes, and sighs of agonizing sorrow heaved her bosom; it was disappointed affection, it was ill-requited love which poisoned the stream of existence. She entered not into the pure, disinterested motives of her lover; she fancied his conduct the result of indifference, perhaps of disgust: agony was in the supposition. "He flics me, he hates me," she would exclaim; "it is evident I am become an object of abhorrence: his eyes no no longer meet mine; sunk in aversion, they seek the ground; and when I speak, he turns away, as though my breath was pestilence. Unkind, cruel Di Rinaldini! ah, fatal, resistless infatuation! it has embittered my life, it has poisoned every source of pleasure, it has checked the communication of filial confidence, it has gangrened the powers of action. Holy Virgin to be despised, to be slighted, what a fate is mine! Would I had died in infancy would that Heaven had silenced. my sorrows! But, alas! my heart will soon break; yes, it must-it will" in all the native energy of her character; and then, without restraint, she yielded to her tears. ! CHAP. CHAP. VI. Why he can smile, and murder while he smiles, SHAKESPEARE. THE Conte Alverani traced not the change in the once sportive Adelheida; but Father Brazilio, deeper read in the human heart, dived into the secret: he had seen her pale cheek flush to the die of crimson at the mention of Huberto's name; he had seen her eye wander towards the door, watching his expected entrance; he had seen her absent and uneasy when he came not; transported, blushing, agitated at his approach. approach. These were indications of no transient attachment, they were sure prognostics of propelling passion: it was evident Adelheida loved Di Rinaldini, it was evident Di Rinaldini's heart glowed with a reciprocal flame. "It must not be," ejaculated the monk, as his brow contracted a deadly frown; "by the powers of vengeance, never shall the son of" he paused, he smothered the denunciation in his rancorous heart: "no," with a malignant smile of exultation, "Manfredini forbids it." Beneath the specious guise of friendship, he now determined to obtain the confidence of Adelheida; and, while externally he espoused her cause, buried in the folds of his vest, he wore a dagger, whose unerring aim could work in secret. He drew it forth, he examined the sharp steel. Unerring," he muttered; and a sickening qualm pressed upon his heart. was an infernal deed!" His hand 66 |